Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Fiji and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Ronan. All the underground hits.
All Camberwell Now tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
JFA,
Michelle Simonal,
Public Enemy,
Sixth Finger,
Joe Smooth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fat Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pantytec,
Traffic Nightmare,
Technova,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
David McCallum,
Funky Four + One,
Chris Corsano,
Livin' Joy,
Rapeman,
Magma,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Seeds,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fortunes,
Ken Boothe,
Yellowson,
Wire,
Minutemen,
The Blackbyrds,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Echospace,
New York Dolls,
Schoolly D,
The Neon Judgement,
Sound Behaviour,
Sarah Menescal,
The Invisible,
Angry Samoans,
Yazoo,
Maurizio,
Tim Buckley,
the Bar-Kays,
Harmonia,
Bluetip,
The Velvet Underground,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
June Days,
Jerry's Kids,
Maleditus Sound,
the Association,
Mission of Burma,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Erykah Badu,
The Moleskins,
Jacques Brel,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.